Placeholder: same prompt, Aug 2025 same prompt, Aug 2025

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@generalpha

Prompt

same prompt, Aug 2025

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

24 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

[vintage style noisy scratches glitches] 1970s Nautical Cult and Sixties Era Hippies
Oh, surfer les vagues, c’est ma liberté, Les rouleaux me portent, je suis prêt à rêver. Gauches et droites, un ballet enchanté, Sur cette mer vivante, je suis émerveillé.
capbreton, la piste: seen from a spaceship a good swell, nice waves and a firework
a transparent wave seen from below under the sea [vintage style noisy scratches glitches, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed]
firework on the ocean, at nightfall in capbreton, la piste: a good swell, nice waves
No clouds in my stones Let it rain, I hydroplane in the bank Comin' down like Dow Jones When the clouds come, we gone We Roc-A-Fella We fly higher than weather
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
ink haiku: the post apocalyptic lacy Chinese lantern, alone in the dark of the shore, competes with the full Moon
capbreton, la piste: [seen from the space sky] a good swell, nice waves
[illustration by Roger Dean futuristic neo-dada] À l’aube, je me lève, Vers La Piste, la planche sous le bras, Sur la vague, je me lève aussi, Une, deux, trois fois, je vole.
capbreton, la piste: a good swell, nice waves and a firework
My quickened sense can only plod. Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of God. As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings; So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,— A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.
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